Goddd, why did I even wear black?

I increased my steps, so I could reach shelter before I melted.

I was on my way to my friend's house. We had a semo date with six other friends.

I took a deep, happy sigh, as I reached her house, thankful that I was no longer under the sun, and for the pleasant smell of Egusi that welcomed me into her home.

May God bless the magic hands of my friend, Deborah.

After some time, everyone arrived, and we decided to we play a catch up game

The rule was simple: say two good things that have happened recently and one bad thing.

I thought it was such an interesting game. It gave us an opportunity to connect as friends, but more importantly, there was something that had been bothering me and I knew it was the right place to bring it up.

My lack of affection for children.

I thought children were needy and pretentious, and it's how they want to get something and then start crying and then they have their way and stop crying.

But then I started wondering, how much of what I was calling “neediness” was actually something I had wanted and wasn't getting as an adult?

My friends came up with some things:

• like starting small, you know, to actually make efforts.

• reassured me that it wasn't anything serious (I knew it was)

• also said to not stop seeking for answers as to why I felt this way about children.

So based on my history, I was surprised to see how much I enjoyed Dim's videos with his son.

I finally understood my situation.

Watching how his son, endlessly called out to him, "Daddy", and how he always patiently answered, “yes”, no matter how many times.

I realized that what bothered me wasn't really children.

It was the thought of being the person someone constantly needed to call.

I couldn't imagine having to answer to someone at that frequency.

Turns out, I wasn't a very patient person and it wasn't just with children.

I've always been friends with people I share interests with. People I can easily connect with because we like similar things.

I was realizing that I hadn't really learnt to know people simply for who they are, outside of what we could do together.

You don't get that leeway with children. You have to get to know them. And that was what I was struggling to do, because how do you even get to know a child?

I also understand now that while I can communicate my needs clearly, children often can't, and sometimes, the only way they can express their wants and how they feel is by crying, calling out or throwing tantrums.

And every time I watched Dim answer "yes" to every "Daddy". It showed me what was possible.

I just needed to be patient, and be willing to come down to their level.

It almost felt like the God was saying something when I got home for the break and my niece was there. For the first time in her 4 years of living, we bond.

It's the first time I'm patient, and I'm having a conversation with her, and getting to know her, because children are people too.

And these are things I have learnt from hanging out with her:

1. If you don't allow children to make a mess, they won't make anything at all. I watched as her wonderful mum let her do things she wants to do. And it's things you ordinarily don't want children to do, because you don't think they can handle it. But the caveat to this is, when you don't allow them, you ruin your chances of getting to know them, or even letting them find themselves, develop confidence and simply enjoy being alive.

2. Children are people:

In mental health, we learn about personalities and how they begin to form very early in life. It's almost unbelievable when you see it happen in real life.

My niece hasn't changed much from who she was as a baby.

She has always been an outside baby, and now she's still an outside baby, just able to cover much more distance.

She has always been kind. As a baby, she would readily give you things. Now, she's even more thoughtful.

3. If you want them to know things, you have to teach them. Their minds are like blank canvases, ready to be shaped by what they see, hear and experience.

So, you can't be nonchalant about it.

You have to be intentional about what you teach, what you model, and what you imprint.

4. You don't have to always indulge them.

You can be chummy and firm. You can set boundaries and still be graceful. And if you do it well enough, you might become someone's favourite aunt.

When you do, we both have Dim to thank.

Meet my niece, Mirabel.

A cute four-year-old girl who loves blue, and honestly, any colour you ask her if she likes.

She's smart, emotionally intelligent, curious, joyful, kind, thoughtful, creative, a go-getter, and very independent.

She loves dancing, has two best friends, and is currently asking her parents to buy her a baby sister and brother.

I am officially a kid lover.

I think I'm even going to try becoming a children's teacher in church.

Now I'm counting down the days to the next semo date.

It's not like we have one planned, but I need to share my breakthrough, so perhaps we should host one in view of it.

I hope it won't be a hot day.

I know I won't be wearing black.

Maybe we shouldn't even have the date in Ondo.

From a winning aunt,

Victoria.

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There is something very serious about the age I’ll be turning this year that made me say to myself, “It’s time to be independent” , and a big part of that is making money and staying away from home for as long as possible.

It's how they say, charity begins at home. It holds true for me, whenever I go home, I lose my sense of responsibility to almost anything. I just find myself incapable of doing any serious work.

And for the first half of the year, that decision helped me stay grounded, I mean I have had an incredible run from that headspace. I was doing the things that I said I would do this year like not going home, co-hosting my book club first physical hangout with my friend, Tess, volunteering for the things I love, serving, showing up better for my friends, stepping into leadership roles, getting to pitch my startup, MINDLIFT, getting better at public speaking, attending conferences.

All of which I have enjoyed and been so grateful to be a part of.

Only that now, it's getting so hard to keep up. One rejection mail after the other, and I'm beginning to question everything. I'm questioning how you can give your best to a project and still not be the best for it.

I'm learning that to achieve success, asides hardwork there are other key team players like: time. chance. luck. connection. wisdom.

I'm failing so much. I'm learning and unlearning as they say the process requires but I just want to go home now.

Since the year hits the second half, the one thing that I have truly desired to do is go home. I am craving the comfort of home food, stable electricity, and good internet connectivity.

I want to see my dogs, inhale the familiar dust of my city (jokes on me because it’s raining season), sleep in my bed, hug my father. I want to go away from everything that’s keeping me responsible to a place where I’m just a daughter.

I long for that simpleness, that familiarity, that comfort, that very specific setting.

I am going home today, and it was not the plan, because there’s still so much undone, and some intense showing up needed but I’m going home first.

Love,

Victoria.

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Sunday is my favourite day of the week and it's just because of church. I love Church and I love that it's a consistent and constant part of my Sunday routine.

I woke up by 5:40 a.m today to get ready for church, I listened to Min. Theophilus Sunday through the prep and by 7:00 a.m I was already on my way. You see I made a pact to be early to church this month and with a 3/4 score, I think I did well.

So, yes I got to church early today and that's something I really love, that I get to settle down and breathe before service begins. There's just this stillness that descends on my heart, like I'm in the right place, at the right time and regardless of how chaotic life feels outside, that I get to drop that and be fully present, is really the best thing for me.

There's usually music playing in the background, as the organising team would be testing out speakers but there wasn't that today and I was grateful for it, I could hear my own thoughts and I liked that it was focused on what I was expecting from the service.

More people poured in, and everything began at exactly 7:30 a.m, I think it also helps that my local church keeps to time.

I danced in church today, as it is becoming a practice of mine to do. Pardon me, I really used to think church dance to be so not cool because it was always overly done with a joy, so palpable, I couldn't quite make sense of it then. I would watch people express it and feel completely uninterested, almost confused about why they felt the need to show their joy that way.

But last year, that changed, God gave me joy. Joy that I couldn't explain, joy in the storm and I'd find myself feeling so much joy and feel so compelled to at least move.

The change was slow and over a period of time. It was first small movements and intense clapping, but now, I actually dance. I no longer feel so aware, or conscious of who might be looking at me because that's has never actually happened and I now wonder why I made it a point before. The only thing I focus on is worshipping God, expressing gratitude for the joy and everything else he has given me.

Nothing else matters in that moment, just me expressing as best as I can. I also think of David, the king, worshipping God with reckless abandon. I desire that and so I let go and worship.

After that, we had people share their testimony, which I found very warm. Then, there was a drama ministration on obedience, prompt obedience and on discernment, especially against listening to fears and voices that are not in accordance with the will of God. The will of the lord is in his word.

The choir ministration was beautiful, and lovely too because we all knew the song and we kinda just sang along.

The song, Changed by Geoffrey Golden

The sermon was the best part.

Topic: New man in Christ.

The preacher made a point about what is usually taught on this topic, about our privileges, who we have become, and what we can do because of the finished work of Christ.

But rarely are we taught of our responsibilities, and of our obligations. What we then now find is, many people that believe but are not living like it.

According to scripture;

2 Corinthians 5:17 NIV

[17] Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

The old includes the old way of living where you decide for yourself and the new is following Christ and following him blindly.

He gave an analogy with two people, one with two working eyes, walking at will. And another with two working eyes choosing to follow God blindly.

I think that’s the part that stuck with me the most, it is an intentional decision to follow blindly, even though you have your own eyes.

Against my will, I follow his will because he created me and he sees a destination that I cannot see, so I lean on him and perpetually obey because I know deeply that I'm safest and most fulfilled living life on his terms. Because the one who leads is the alpha and omega.

That's really the message of the new man, more than who you have been made to be, is also the life you have been called to live, and the values you must now uphold.

That is the new man.

2 Corinthians 5:14-15 NIV

[14] For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. [15] And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.

Since you are in Christ, you are a new man. But since when? Two years? Five years? Ten years?

Can it be said of you that when people see you, they see Christ?

Are you living up to the responsibilities of this new life?

We prayed, celebrated those who have birthdays this week, and it was time to close. We took our confessions and held hands for our family song:

“I love this family of God…”

Service ended after we shared the grace in unison, and it was another time to observe the PDA (public display of affection) in church and also partake. People hugging, holding conversations, helping, and supporting. Just a really great place to be.

Now, over to you, what did you do today?

Some days life becomes mechanical. Wake up. Classes. Deadlines. Assignments. Sleep. Repeat. And somewhere between those routines, I sometimes wonder, is this what living is supposed to feel like?

I don't want to live a life that is predictable or numb. I have realised something, life can become very small if you let it.

I want a full life

I want a life full of adventures. I want to wake up every morning and challenge myself to do something out of the norm. I don’t just mean in the big ways, like relocating, but even in the simple things. I want to wake up in Lagos and decide I want to eat breakfast boli and fish from port Harcourt. I want to constantly change the small details of my day, from my fashion style, to trying weird food combos, painting my face, using red lipsticks and bright eye shadows. I want to audition for things I’m clearly bad at like stand up comedy. I want to read the books that are typically boring and I’ve sworn never to read.

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I want a full life.

I want to be rich, but I also don’t want to be money crazed because to be money crazed is to be in constant engagement with money, a wild dance between wanting it, getting it and wanting more. That’s not what I want. I want to have options, I want to make decisions and not feel limited by money. I want to have space in my mind for more important things.

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I want to be rich in love and to give it freely. I want to be the friend who sends long voice notes at midnight, the one who says “I love you” without swallowing the words halfway.

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I want to love boldly and loudly, unashamedly. I want to tell the people I love that I do without feeling weird about it. I want to also show it, in words and in deeds. I want to hug my friends and family whenever I see them. I want to have so much love in my heart to always show up for my people. I want to be so rich in love that I don’t even notice if it is not reciprocated, I want to be so full of it.

I want to lavish love on my family, my friends, and everyone I meet.
I want a life where I’m busy loving. I want a life filled with true friendship, pure bonds, and shared vulnerability.

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I want to live a life that is emotionally rich. I want to always feel everything. I want to laugh when I’m happy, cry when I feel sad. I want to always be able to express what I truly feel in the most authentic way. I don’t want to feel pressured by society to shrink and not feel as much as I’d want because I show up better as my authentic self.

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I want a life that is well kept. I want my journals filled up with everything I do, and my phone storage filled with pictures and videos of my life and the live of everyone who ever intersects with mine. I never want to forget how much of a privilege living truly is.

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I want to live an adventurous life, a moving life, filled with doing and the excitement of it. I want to always pick up new hobbies, I want to see the world, I want to do things that I’m bad at, and then get good at it. There’s something about motion that lets you slow down. You ease into it and you take all it gives.
I really like the idea of jumping cars, lorries, trains, buses, planes, reading on the go and writing about everything in between. Omg! The adrenaline.
I want to read novels in airport lounges and write half-finished thoughts on buses that smell like diesel.

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I want a treasured life, not a measured one. A life filled with so much grace and goodness, contentment and growth. A life that will always be remembered for its impact.

I want a soft life. I really don’t like the idea of struggling to make ends meet. I believe in hardwork, not a constant tug-of-war. I do not want life to happen to me. I want a soft, blissful, beautiful life. A very beautiful life.

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I want a life rich in stories, I love when I see a collection of books and realize that I have read 70% but then I get sad about the 30% I have not yet.

I want to be rich in reading.

I want to be disgustingly educated. I want to be rich in knowing. I want to understand politics, history, finance. I want to know what matters and what does not.

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I want a life full of hope. I believe the worst thing in life is to lose hope. It scares me so much, because everything goes downhill from there.

So I want a life spent hoping, believing, and trusting God.

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Love,
Victoria. 🤍

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It was during a Friday Bible study a few weeks ago that a girl asked a question about daydreaming. She explained what she meant, you know how you can be sitting somewhere, thinking about your dream life: a mansion in Monaco, a GLE in the driveway, a life where everything is good and smooth, especially when you’re broke.

The hall erupted in that familiar sound, the kind of noise that screams agreement, or at least relatability. In this case, it was both.

I was glad to know that it wasn’t only me who had lofty ideas occasionally. I can’t quite remember what exactly she was asking about it, but here’s my point;

If nothing changes, nothing changes.

I know the feeling of having a head full of ideas but never doing anything about them. It's the feeling of wanting more, knowing deeply that you are capable of so much more but also lacking the drive to do what is required.

I plan, I imagine, I talk, anything but actually take action.

And the thing is one can get so good at planning that they forget planning isn't enough.

Between the young girl daydreaming about vacations in Ibiza and the actualization of it, isn't just planning, it is execution.

The reason we don't do isn't because we don't care, it's because we care too much. Because doing might confirm our worst fear, that we are not enough. So, we latch onto what is safe, like an infant that wants to suckle on his mother's breast. And we give room for fear, the fear of being seen trying and possibly failing.

Many dreams die on the mountain of embarrassment, and the myth of waiting to be ready, because that only means you will be waiting forever.

That state of inaction is exactly what kills dreams.

We procrastinate and say we'll do it later, and before we know it, our dreams move from "when I do it" to "if I do it".

"A dream without action isn't a dream, it's a wish."

When we wait too long before chasing our dreams, we begin to pick up other things that aren't as important to us. The more we commit to those things, the less likely we are to do what is truly ours to do. So we remain tied to them, even while knowing that this isn't who we are meant to be.

You can survive not getting what you want but can you live with knowing that you never even tried.

that's the part that haunts me, because I'd always wonder, what it'd have been, if I had just tried.

Then comes regret. And grief for could have been, and all the possibilities I will now never know because I didn't allow myself to try.

If nothing changes, nothing changes. The only way to become who you imagine is to start now.

Starting may not be easy but you can make it easy. Start small. Take tiny steps. You can't suddenly go from 0 to 100 but you can go from point 0- 1. And if you do that everyday for 100 days, you would finally arrive at point 100.

So try. For once, actually try.

Actually show up regardless.

Do the thing that scares you because chances are that on the other side of it is the person you have always dreamed of becoming.

But you will never know until you do.

Until it is done.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

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I once loved a man, we will call him Bala. For two years, I loved him quietly. I would stay longer in rooms he was present in. Sometimes, I sat behind him in his favorite coffee shop and ordered a cappuccino too, just the way he liked his — less foam, more milk, with cinnamon topping.

I really took note of him. He had seven blazers, all monochrome; shades of grey, black, green and brown. I noticed him in the smallest ways too, like the way he massaged his beard while considering a thought, the scent of his cologne, the way his eyes curved into a crescent moon when he smiled.

Falling for him happened quickly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I don't think I wanted it to stop.

But this isn’t just about my love story. At least, not in the way you might think.

It’s about all the ways I reimagined him. They say to reimagine is to see something or someone not just for what they are, but for what they could be. That's exactly what happened with him. I didn’t just love Bala, I reimagined him.

Every glance he spared me became a story. Every time he stepped into class in one of his blazers, I imagined the mornings he might have spent choosing it. The worn-out sleeve of his brown one spoke of his attachment to it, and I wondered if it was his favorite.

I built a world where we were friends, then lovers, a world where we shared interests, read the same books, and enjoyed the same movies. One where our coffee mugs sat beside each other, our fingers intertwined as we discussed the weather.

My mind took the simplest moments and moulded them into a story of us.. I reimagined what we could be, beyond our present reality.

It wasn’t just with him, though, because reimagination doesn’t belong to love alone. It’s how I have lived.

It’s the same with the girl who dreams of being a writer, scribbling words in a notebook, reimagining a world where her stories heal broken hearts.

The young boy who stares at planes in the sky, envisioning himself as the pilot even as he flies his kite. And the woman who dreams of becoming president, reimagining the world as her oyster, a world where being a woman does not stop her from reaching the pinnacle of her career.

To reimagine is to step beyond what’s in front of you. It’s daring to look at something ordinary and see it for all its invisible possibilities. It’s believing that what we experience doesn’t have to be the end of the story. It’s recognizing that we can explore new possibilities.

Sometimes, reimagination is silent, the kind that happens in your head as you sit quietly on your bed, counting the lines on the ceiling on a hot Saturday afternoon because there is no NEPA light and your phone has given up on you.

Other times, it’s loud like leaving a relationship that has become draining, or speaking up for something you believe in, simply because, in one moment, you dared to look.

It’s not always logical, and it’s hard to explain because, like love, reimagination moves in ways words cannot capture.

Loving him taught me this. Because as much as I created a world in my head where he and I were more than we were, I realized something: reimagination doesn’t always mean the imagined becomes real.

Sometimes, it’s simply the seed that pushes you forward, the quiet start of something that will eventually unfurl naturally.

And maybe that’s the true power of reimagination.

It’s the way you get to build an ideal world you want to live in. It unlocks something within us, a daring belief that things can be more than they seem. It starts with a quiet dream, a silent longing, but it often ends with a spark, a push that moves you beyond just wishing and into becoming.

So, reimagine, not just love or people, but yourself.

Reimagine what you can be beyond your doubts, beyond your fears, beyond the words that limit you, beyond what people think, beyond your resources.

Because somewhere between what is and what could be is where magic happens.

Love,

Victoria

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I miss you today, because today after what I'd call a great presentation, it would be me heading to your house to eat mumsy's food but I'm sitting in this car, alone, eating cold pizza.

I miss you, and it hits harder on days like today, when I just want to talk to you because I wouldn't need to say much and you would understand, you also already have all the context.

Every time something happens, I literally look around like, ‘Where is my friend?’ because nobody gets me like you do.

I miss you, I was going to call but I found myself hesitating because things haven't quite been the same with us. You have been distant and I have been too busy to check in, or so I claimed.

I miss you, random moments remind me of you, and I get this mix of nostalgia, especially when I look through our old photos, wondering if we would get to make new memories.

I miss us, how we just sync, how everyone assumes we are twins when we hangout and how much fun we have by admitting that we are.

I miss having you in my house, where we would sit on the floor and play card games, I always win but somehow always post otherwise on your snap update. You trying on my clothes that are obviously too big for you but you would insist and I let you have them.

I miss doing life with you, sitting with you, chatting with you, asking for your advice before I make the kind of mistakes I’ve been making lately.

I miss hanging around you and getting to learn all the latest gist that I'd have no idea about if not for you. Now, I'm home alone on a Sunday afternoon, utterly bored, unsure if you'd pick if I called and afraid, that you'd pick and I'd overhear you having fun with your new friends.

I miss you, there's so much to tell you right now but you live at least a thousand miles away and I can't facetime immediately because of the different timezones.

I miss you, terribly and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I'm losing you, worse still, I don't think I can stop it.

I don't know when things started to change, but I know, right now, things aren't the same.

Maybe I'll send a text that will read; "Just wanted you to know that things aren’t half as fun without you. Can we please make a plan to see each other?”

Maybe I'd feel too proud or too scared and I won't.

Maybe I'd just send you the link to this newsletter, maybe you'd read it and things would change.

I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do. I think I should do something.

I think I should tell you that, I miss you my friend.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

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Madam was a little crazy. She would start the say in a good mood, moving around the house and humming soft melodies, the kind that made the day feel lighter. The scent of fried eggs and brewed tea followed her footsteps from the kitchen to the sitting room. Sometimes she would stop beside me while I swept the floor and say, “You work very well.” Then we would make small talk about the weather or the price of tomatoes in the market.

But as the sun set each day, something in Madam seemed to go with it.

Her voice grew sharp. Her patience disappeared. The smallest mistake would make her shout, and when she walked through the house her footsteps felt heavy, like someone carrying a burden no one else could see.

If I stepped out for too long, she would call out for me and If I stayed close, she would complain about everything I did and I'd need to leave her presence.

I never knew what to do.

Madam was not always like this. Before now, she rarely shouted. Even when I made mistakes, she would scold me gently and tell me to be more careful next time.

I remember in the evenings she used to sit on the balcony and tell stories about the countries she had visited with Oga, places where the buildings touched the sky and the air was so cold it burned your nose.

Sometimes the children and I would sit around her, as she spoke. Those days felt warm.

One morning after the children left for school, Oga packed a suitcase and left Madam for a younger woman.

That was when everything started to change.

Madam walked around the house like someone searching for something she had lost.

Then, one afternoon it rained heavily, the kind of rain that swallowed the streets and turned the gutters into rivers. Madam sent me to buy roasted corn from the woman on the third Street.

By the time I returned, my clothes were damp and the sky was still dark with clouds.

I pushed open the door quietly.

That was when I saw her.

Madam was standing in the middle of the sitting room, staring at herself in the mirror. She was wearing my jeans.

My hands went cold.

Before I could stop myself, I screamed. “Madam! Do you want my life?”

Madam slowly turned to look at me.

But the woman staring back did not look like Madam anymore.

"I don't want to have to start from scratch after school?" my friend said to me.

I understood him deeply.

Adulting in college somehow feels different from adulting outside college. It's almost like after college is when adulting gets real.

In college you still get your allowance, you are doing life side by side with your friends and growth is happening, almost vertically, and no one seems out of place.

But everything seems to change after graduation.

Goodbye to the structures and systems that once held everything together. No more similar school schedules that keep you and your friends together.

You now have to find your place in this world with one nagging question, "How does one even do that?".

"Especially with my finances" He told me.

And I get it, because a big part of being independent and growing up is having your finances figured out.

There's something about adulting that has you laughing and crying at the same time. A paradox.

It comes with so many things at once; getting a job, finding a partner, having kids. Things you once thought Jesus would come before it was your turn is somehow now your turn and Jesus hasn't yet come.

You have to now do what adults do. Face it.

Now that you are free to make your own decisions, you have your independence, and you can finally choose what you want and reject what you don't want. You can do life at your own pace, no lectures, no assignments, no deadlines.

But it suddenly doesn't feel as exciting as it once sounded.

It is like one is being groomed all through their life to arrive at this point, and when you get there, you are somehow still confused on what to do. You also can't be confused for too long because life is moving and life keeps score.

Only now, the results aren't graded by your teachers but life itself. And sometimes life can be unfair, it doesn't allow for nuance, so it says you either win or you lose.

Are we being prepared enough for this transition?

I think not.

Because what do you mean, I'm responsible for my own life, not just that, I'm responsible for the results of my own decisions.

I must now learn to take care of myself, like cooking, doing laundry, earning money, saving money, self-management, time management, plus emergency funds and even an investment portfolio.

Building habits like standing up for myself, communicating clearly, and confronting issues when necessary.

And still deal with younger people addressing you as the adult you obviously are.

As in a child greets you and says; Good morning ma.

Ma? Me??

And when you get home to complain to your mother because at least you are still somebody's child.

But she says, "You are a big girl now".

Arrghhhhh.

No mummy. I'm a small girl.

Because adulting is not only hard for you, it's the same for your friends, you also now have to fight to not lose them. So you will do everything; plan dates, hangouts, meetings that may never happen because of different schedules or even time zones but you have to plan, because friendship matters.

It's times like this you will wonder how your parents handled being parents and being adults at the same time.

Someone said, "adulting is realising that mummy really needed that kitchen cleaned by the time she got back from work."

The economy does not even help too. Nobody is 'just' a graduate anymore. You’re a graduate-plus-vendor-plus-freelancer because the economy has made one job a luxury we can't afford.

I'm learning that worrying is aimless and unproductive. What's productive is praying, planning and doing.

Like my friend, I also don't want to have to start from scratch after college. So, I'll be praying, planning and doing because it's better than worrying.

Thinking of that time feels lonely and not preparing for it feels like a disservice because it will come. It feels like one of those events that you are never truly prepared for like my OSCE exam but like it, I want to believe that preparation helps.

Love,

Victoria.

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I hate that I know grief this deeply. It's a constant reminder of what's lost that can never be regained. That reminder comes from the pain that has refused to transform into anything else.

Pain that tightens your chest that you almost can barely breathe. Pain that wakes you up in the middle of the night just because you have lost something dear, something wonderful.

If it only attacked you at night, maybe you'd be able to manage it. But here you are on Monday and you catch a glimpse of someone that looks just like them. You almost call out before you remember that it can't be them. It will never be them. Not in this world.

Or on a Saturday, as you stroll into the mall to get a snack. You walk up to the cashier to pay, and just as you stand in the queque, you catch a whiff of their smell, the hazelwood mixed with vanilla. In that moment you seriously consider asking a stranger to hold you.

You could just be doomscrolling on IG, when you click on a reel and its their favourite song playing. You try, really try then not to think about them. But it is their favourite song and you will remember every time they listened to the song with you, their expression, and their voice as they sing the lyrics word for word.

Grief never fades. The memories don't leave you, even when time passes and you begin to forget their face and the sound of their voice. You never forget the person they were to you, the way they loved you, all the times and all the ways they showed up for you. You never forget.

Grief is hard. It doesn't get easy, you just grow, you get stronger and better at managing it. You will mourn memories and every time you hit a milestone, or experience a loss, you will imagine how different it would be if they were present.

But you will still live.

You will live because grief is the price you pay for love. You will live because that's what they'd want. And God forbid, God forbid you bother them as they rest.

There's no manual for grief, no expiry date because grief stretches, and you, you also stretch to accommodate it.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

Of all things to worry about, the only thing on my mind was for the day to end as soon as possible.

It was 2pm on Monday as I glanced at my watch while I took a seat across Temi at the school's cafeteria. I began complaining as I sat.

"I'm so tired, the weekend is like 2 seconds these days". I lamented to Temi who was amused by whatever she was watching on her phone, I could tell with the way her hole-sized dimple shone. my guess? probably an Instagram reel.

"Temiiii", I half screamed. That gets her attention and she acknowledges my misery. But she immediately goes back to her video, and as I look around the hall, I noticed the gold paintings peeling off and a few cracks on the wall near the door.

"This cafeteria is due for a renovation", I thought.

"Alex", Temi called out and when I looked at her, she immediately asked this, "what is the important thing to you in relationships?"

I considered it a bit before answering., "Uhm, I'd say Presence"

"How do you mean", She asked.

I don't mean like being by my side all day, everyday. I mean being there when it matters. And not just being present, but being present in the way that your presence is felt. That matters so much to me.

I say this because when I think of my dearest relationships, I think of people who have been there for me and with me. And it's not just in loss because they are also there when I win, it just really means so much.

That's not always physical, it's them remembering to call on the big days, sending a note or even funny stickers to cheer you up on a heavy day. I guess what I'm saying is that presence is all the ways they show up for you when it really matters.

To be loved is to be remembered, not even in the big gestures, I mean those are good. But you ever got a letter that moves you tears because you know it's for you. A gift that is not expensive but is exactly what you need. The check-in you get about something you randomly mentioned to them that you will be working on.

Oh, to be remembered and considered. Love is in the little things. In teeny-weeny moments when someone says or does something that softly tells you that they thought about you in planning and executing whatever.

To be loved is to be seen. Not exposed, not dissected, just seen. The softest, silliest, things that make up your person. To be understood in context, not in an epiphany, but as an entity, as a someone that exists in a context.

I closed my eyes and continue.

To see their smile, their pain, their heart, their joy and to recognise them. To know that they close their eyes when they smile only when the joy flows from their inside, the slight wrinkle that shows up in their forehead when they come up with the silliest ideas, how they seem to have an internal battle just before they oppose a preexisting order.

And as I open my eyes, I catch Temi's eyes and I know that she knows.

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I think I have been going through life hoping everyone is good, because God knows I wouldn't know what to do otherwise. I know it's not just me. But I'm trying now, to remember, intentionally that we are not all good.

If you have dealt with any sort of struggle in life and you have survived it, I have observed that we tend to overlook the plight of others in the moment. It's a weird maths we do in our heads.

We decidedly assume that if we, having gone through something similar and have emerged stronger, surely others should be able to do the same.

A good depiction of what I mean is in how we react when we see people cry. Rather than comfort, we ask why, as though there's a need for us to determine for them If what has happened to them is worth any tears.

It's then ironic, how much we encourage vulnerability when we can't honour it. We don't even want to discuss it, we just skip to the saving part. But how can we save someone else, when we are incapable of saving ourselves.

It's the same as when a person commits suicide and we ask why. Asking isn't the problem, it's the purpose and I have observed that it's not a genuine quest to fill in a gap, we wouldn't also use that information to change anything in our society.

It's a quest for us to move past it, to find out and stick with what is convenient for us to believe in. Because we still conclude that nothing should ever lead to a person taking their own life and I agree.

But the problem is we make it definitive and don't allow for nuance, and we mistake understanding for acceptance.

What we indirectly do is trivialise their experience and the many things that most have led to it, thereby not giving room for change in our society. What we then find is more suicide reports and because we only care enough to find out why, we eventually become desensitized to the news of it.

Another disservice we do is trying to make it simple when it isn't.

I want us to truly recognize that we are different people and we don't have the same mental capacity or threshold or will to just face life head on what come may. And to realise that life is harder for some people than you can imagine. We live and exist in different realities. Many times, we speak from a place of privilege and we don't even realise it. And maybe before we try to dress up a person's life to make ourselves comfortable, we must remain conscious of the fact that we have not lived their lives, filled their positions and because of that we would never ever be able to answer WHY.

I want to suggest that we stop asking. Why focus on what's outside our control, while what's within remains unattended to.

No! Suicide is not a radical nor abrupt decision. The truth is people struggle, honestly everyone does, just some more than others. And help is more accessible to some people than others.

Mental health problems are real; Depression, Anxiety Disorders, Behavioural and emotional disorders, Bipolar affective disorders, Dissociation and dissociative disorders, Eating disorders, Obsessive compulsive disorder, Paranoia… And when not managed adaptively can be fatal.

In many ways society contribute to these mental health problems. There's still stigma, many people remain undiagnosed and help remains inaccessible or expensive. Individually, the words we say to others, the comparison, societal expectations, and pressure.

On top of that, a government that doesn't care about the health of its citizens.

I advocate for change in many spheres and what I consistently find is a resistance and even more disturbing is the disbelief that we could get better as a people.

I genuinely think it's because it's hard for us to be accountable, easy to blame everyone else, including the victims but we somehow fail to see how we as individuals, families and communities contribute to it.

So, I plead, before we start a national rampage advocating for a change in mental health care. Let our words be seasoned, let it give life. Let's practice self control, we really don't have to say something.

We don't need to participate in every conversation. We don't have to post in response to everything we see on social media. We don't have to express every thought that comes to mind. Instead we should pause, and carefully consider our words before we speak. We need to ask ourselves, are these words necessary? If not, why say them?

Let's love more, let's genuinely care because we can. Not these half-hearted things we do, let's love truly and selflessly. That would look like kindness, and check-ins that are really check-ins. It'd be honouring people's vulnerability, not avoiding them so they don't speak to you about their issues.

Let's educate ourselves on mental health. What it is about? How it affects people? It's hard to sympathise or empathise with what you don't understand, educate yourself on it.

Let's extend more grace to people. You can't see their mental health because of course it's mental, you may not know but there are people that need extra grace. Please be kind. Always be kind.

Love,

Victoria.

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If you ask me about my experience as Class Representative for year 3, I’d say something along the lines of , “It was fine , I liked it and I’m glad it’s over.”

It would be true.

But if you ask me on a deeper level, here’s what I’ll say;
It’s the kind of responsibility that changes your life. For context, I went late for the meeting where I was elected and it’d be the last time I’d be late for any meeting or class in the tenure.

It was a sunny morning and I wore a peach dress, no picture reference but I was pretty confident.

My mother would tell me to always try, so when the course advisor asked if anyone was interested, I raised my hand. It just felt right, never mind that I’d been considering it since the holiday and when I got up and stood out, in that moment I knew. Only now with whom... because we are supposed to be two: a guy and a lady. And before my eyes, another volunteer stood up and then more people trooped out.
We, the contestants, were told to face the back, and votes were made. Just before the winners were announced, I noticed the one of the electoral officer check the score and look out for two people then gave each a reassuring smile — me and another guy. haha that’s how I knew who had won even before we were announced.

I can be very keen like that, you know that look when someone looks at the results before them and then decides to only look at two people of the 7 people standing, 4 girls and 3 boys. You just know.

My dearest gentle readers, that’s how I got into a job I had no idea about.

I have had some experience with leading but it wasn’t the most pleasant, because I was overly tolerant. I still am but it used to be so hard to enforce a change and not be the one to suffer everything. So why did I want to do it again?

I’d say it’s because I really liked it too. I like being able to help people and I have loved my classmates since getting to know them more. Also I was sure this experience would change me. It did.

The first thing I learnt was “partnership”. Simply put, two heads are better than one and that was truly a definitive lesson throughout the year.
If you ever find yourself in a leadership position, it would do you good to work with a good person. It would make all the difference. If you plan to run, that’s a good prayer point to begin with.

But that was only one part of it

Change is inevitable. As class representative, you will be tired a lot and still be unable to rest because there’s always something to do and I had settled into a routine I could no longer continue with because of this new position. I had to adjust and still make room for my many many passions. Boy, was it hard?

I’d learn that I can be everything but I can’t be everything at the same time. One thing at a time. Although I learned this later, it still saved me from the heavy workload I had subjected myself too.

I had to learn the Eisenhower Matrix of prioritization.

You will deal with people. I’m not a people person, I mean that people tire me out and it just shows with my body language even when I’m not necessarily saying anything. Something I desired to do as a leader was to serve, like really serve and make the academic journey of my classmates as seamless as possible. Crazy work.

I had to bridge the gap between who I was and who I needed to be. I incorporated smiling as a coping mechanism. I just didn’t always have the answers and people don’t get that and just smiling did me good.

You don’t have that much power. I mean you do but not as much as you imagine. You have power to do what is required. More? I’m not sure. I wanted to be class rep because some part of my head compared it with Tinubu’s executive power, the man changed the national anthem in one announcement with no reason at all and we haven’t looked back since. His authority remains unquestioned. Uhm... Class rep isn’t the same. You don’t have that kind of power, only a little but if you care enough, it’s usually enough.

Leadership is servanthood. I still don’t know my leadership style but when I follow biblical instructions it always works well. Leading involves doing the work nobody wants to do, and the herculean tasks.

One time, my friend, Testimony and I wrote personalised letters to everyone in class because we wanted to encourage them about the upcoming exam. We are over 100 by the way. When she told me, I thought it was cute, execution, however it was tough but when I saw how excited and happy it made them, I was happy too because we almost didn’t do it.

I also ended up receiving a valentine gift from the awesome bundle of classmates I’ve got.

I used to freestyle a lot. I live my life a bit on the edge, I love the adrenaline and I don’t take myself too seriously. I had to be so prim and proper because sometimes my actions would impact others too. Truly, heavy is the head that wears the crown. I just had to be a different person. Someone that shows up early, and consistently. I have not always been that.

Leadership is real character development. Your tone, voice, and posture matter when communicating to authority. You can’t vibe through that. I am polite, so it’s not just that. There’s a performance of meekness — Serious face, clear-headed assertiveness, concise answers, gentle voice. Deeply fascinating.

Oh, you also get access to opportunities. You can always vet if you want to be a part of something first because you are the medium of communication, many times. I learnt the art of persuasion from my partner, Caleb. I didn’t do it but every time he did, it worked for our collective good.

As a woman leading, some men can be quite condescending and dismissive. I know I said there’s a performance of politeness, but with them it’s a performance of being dumb. You don’t dare be assertive, you even probably need to approach them with a guy to get a reasonable response. It happened very few times but it always stressed me out so much.

You need people. A public shout-out to my friends; Esther, Temi, Darasimi, Bolu, Iseoluwa, David, Testimony, Deborah, Victor, Christy, Mercy, Mimi, Faith, Mayorkun, Kenny, Favour, Faith, Precious...

You will need to rant, I still have videos from hectic days, pages of journal and texts where I’m just lamenting. Grateful for these ones, grateful for church and to God, for everything.

Would I do this again?
I’m not sure.
But I’d always be grateful for holding the post for one year. It really wasn’t the role, it was the people, the lessons, the memories and growth.

I’d end with this gem from my friend, David, it’s exactly what he told me after I shared my decision to run for the post with him.

Work on the lapses of your predecessors. It was such good advice and if you really think about it, that’s how you make a change. Amplify what they did well, and improve on what they didn’t do.

Love,
Victoria.

And although we often feel the need to explain ourselves after saying it, here's the truth; you don’t have to.

You’re allowed to say no when you don’t want something.

When you don’t want to do something.

When it feels uncomfortable.

When saying yes puts you at risk.

When it’s inconvenient.

When it doesn’t align with your vision.

When you’re unsure. Yes, even when you can't explain why.

That last one usually makes people nervous.

And I get it. Saying no can feel hard because we’re afraid of how we’ll be perceived. We don’t want to seem rude, difficult, unkind, unserious, or — God forbid — unavailable.

But here’s my theory, saying yes when you want to say no or when you know you should say no is ingenuine. And while you may be able to please others in that moment, you quietly betray yourself and you'll eventually resent yourself for it.

Another thing I have noticed is trying to get people to like you by constantly saying "Yes" rarely ever works. The people meant to stay in your life don't need you to shrink, bend or overextend to please them. They water you as you water them.

You will never be enough for the wrong people, and you will always be required to do more to retain their attention, if you do get it. Each time, more than the last.

And even then, it still won’t be enough.

This is why, I'm writing this to you.

Your Very Simple Guide to Saying No

1. Be aware.

Know what you want and what you don’t want. This can come from your personality, your faith, your values, or your current capacity. Whatever it is, have a why. You don’t need to announce it. Just know it.

2. Pause before responding.

When the situation, question, request present itself.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Say no.

Not “let me see.”

Not “I’ll get back to you.”

Not “hmm, maybe.”

Just no.

If the situation genuinely requires context, briefly state your why but be firm. Don’t sound unsure unless you want negotiations to begin immediately.

Say it like you mean it. Because you do.

3. Don’t decide under pressure.

You can listen. You can consider feedback. You can engage a conversation on your WHY but you don't have to change your mind on the spot.

People can be convincing in the moment but you need more time to process information than in one single moment. And sometimes what feels like clarity is just confusion parading in confidence.

Take the feedback. Step away. Reflect. Then decide.

Don’t let pressure force a decision and don’t confuse persuasion with clarity.

Practice saying no with me.

Come on, try it now.

Say NO.

Say it again

One more time, so you never forget.

Good.

I'll end with this;

Not everything is for you,

Not everyone is for you,

And that's not a flaw

That's the point.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

I'm baffled when people allow other people talk them out of their dreams. Honestly I understand it, making big decisions about your life can be terrifying. Rerouting — whether transitioning to a new career, deciding to get married, building a personal brand online, moving to an unfamiliar place— can be tough.

But It's still your life.

Somewhere along the way, we forget how unique we are, how different, how diverse. It seems to me that we are running from what is arguably the beauty of life — our individuality.

We let people sell us their fears packaged as well-meaning advice. Sometimes, they even sell us their dreams. You don't even realize it until it's the middle of June and you are sad and angry and dissatisfied because you don't know who you are anymore, and you are living a life that, quite frankly, isn't yours.

This is not a take charge of your life story. Think of it as a call to actively stop living a life that isn't yours.

Life is deeply personal — you shouldn't be comfortable with someone else's advice being the sole premise for your decision-making — and spiritual, a more reliable consult would be the holy spirit, full of grace and without fear or bias.

Be a good judge of what is the right counsel because God uses men too. A sure way to discern good counsel would be to check if it's scriptural. Does it align with truth?

They say, experience is the best teacher but it doesn't always have to be your experience. Learning from others can help you save time, and avoid mistakes. Still, context matters. The world is changing rapidly, and the realities of today are not the same as those of yesterday.

The greatest disservice we do to ourselves is disbelieving — losing hope and subsequently, will.

I say greatest because you know yourself. You know what you are capable of. You know how far you can go. You know the things that keep you up at night, set your heart on fire and pull you toward your work.

You know how good you are and the great ideas you have.

And yet, somehow, you still find a way to convince yourself otherwise.

The next time — you or anyone else — tells you, you're not capable, that you are unworthy, that your dreams are too big and you should shrink, I hope you remember why it's your dream and not theirs because the kind of ideas and dreams that you have is usually a pointer to the person you already are. You xonsider them because something in you recognizes and aligns with them.

I also hope that you remember that we are doing life for the first time, and it's okay to make mistakes. Rather than avoid it, maybe try to embrace it and even anticipate it, so that you can pick your lessons and move on.

I need you to trust yourself more and to not let anyone or anything stop you. Stop running around for advice that only ever tells you "your dream is too big". You need to finally sit down with yourself and make the decision to pursue your dreams. Chase it with everything you've got and remember that the process is just as important as the results.

I hope you allow yourself enjoy the process because only In hindsight will you realise that the result has always been in the process.

Greatness was never in one moment, it is rather every time you decided to put in the hours to study, that discipline and focus are already results. You were already great in that moment. When the results finally show, others simply catch up to what you’ve always known.

Maybe it doesn't have to be tough, if you involve God and completely trust him. He is all-knowing and all-powerful and he created you. When you submit to His plan, that’s when you truly win.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

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As we wait in great anticipation for 2026, the great 2026, the year that you will be unstoppable and efficient, the year you will win all round.

pause for a moment.

Remember that you said that about this year, last year and did it happen. Yes? No?

This is why you need to pause and reflect on the year you have had, good or bad. Not the vague idea of it in your head, but the actual information, the details you will need to gain clarity on where you are, so you can practically and realistically move from this point.

I understand how tiring reflection can be. Having to remember what went wrong, and not just that, why it went wrong. But that’s not all there's to it. You also get to revisit what went right, what you did well, what you survived, and what you learned.

Your journey this year isn't a single story.

The problem with a single story isn't that it's untrue but that it makes one story the only story. And this has been a long year, one that can't be summed up in one word or three. It deserves a comprehensive breakdown. You deserve that kindness.

A win isn't only when you land a high-paying job or buy a new car or get a new house. It doesn't have to be a dramatic 0-100 takeover and that's okay.

A win can also be:

•learning a new skill

•staying consistent

•building intentional relationships

•becoming a better person, generally

•giving up a bad habit

While this process can feel gruesome, harder if you had a disappointing year, easier if you had an excellent one. The work is the same; sitting still, thinking deeply, checking your records, your journals, your gallery and your chats for proof of your milestones, the person you have become, the places you visited, the things you did, how you spent your time and what you've learned.

As you go through the exercise, ask yourself specific questions. They help uncover specific problems and It’s much easier to set specific goals when you actually understand what actually needs fixing.

That awareness, that clarity is where change begins. Awareness of patterns. Awareness of gaps. Awareness of effort, growth, loss, and progress.

When we don’t reflect, we don’t really move forward, we just carry the same habits into a new year and hope the calendar does the work for us.

And every year, we find out — again — that nothing will change unless we do. You cannot repeat the same drill and expect different results.

Everything you will need.

✓ 3 uninterrupted hours today.

✓ a pen and journal or your notes app or Google docs.

✓ An undistracted mind (minimal or no social media.)

Here's a practical guide.

Divide your life into sections. Start by breaking it into 5 broad categories, depending on the plan you had for the year.

I personally use;

•Spiritual •Finance •Career •Academic •Relationships.

For Instance:

Finance

How much did you earn? From how many sources? Are you satisfied? Get your bank statements, what did you spend money on? Were you able to diversify your investment portfolio?

Spiritual.

Are you impressed with how you've done spiritually? What was your goal at the beginning of the year? Do you like how things turned out? Are you happy with where you are?

Career.

What kind of work did you do this year? Are you proud of it? How much did you make from it? What do you want to be working on next year? Same thing? Or something different?

Remember, there are no right or wrong answers, only honest ones.

What to do with this information?

Practice Gratitude: This is where you balance the narrative.

Reflection can easily turn into self-criticism, you may feel the urge to compare your achievements with others. You may feel a little dissatisfied but it is very important that you resist that feeling and choose gratitude instead. Acknowledge your progress, your resilience, the quiet wins that didn’t look “big”.

Write 5–10 things you’re grateful for this year, including things that worked, even when it was hard.

Create a mission board alongside a vision board: While a vision board shows what you want, a mission board shows how you’ll live.

Now, half of the work is done by reflection, you have all necessary information and you can plan SMARTly; Specific, measurable, Achievable, Relevant and Time-bound — give a deadline.

Plan for accountability. Tell someone about your goals and let them help you stay consistent, have specific check-in days to review what's working and what can be adjusted. It can be weekly, monthly or quarterly. I find monthly very effective.

Send out end of the year letters : The most beautiful things in life are not things. They're people and places and memories and pictures. This is for the people that helped you survive this year; your friends, family, the artist, that author, your leaders, church. Write them an appreciation letter.

Let them know how their presence and work has impacted you.

You will know you've truly reflected, when this final section flows smoothly.

If this year teaches you something, let it be this:

If you always do what you have always done, you will always be where you've always been.

And change, true change begins with awareness.

So do it. Reflect. Take it step by step. Start small. Start honestly. Start with kindness toward yourself.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

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They say you were born today after hundreds of years of prophecy, and since your birth you have truly been everything, the miracle boy that has changed our lives. Because you came, our lives will never remain the same and you didn't just come, you came with life, abundant life.

I am astounded when I think of your mother, Mary, how she must have felt to be awarded the grace, of birthing the one that will save the whole world, she must have been overwhelmed and maybe, even confused. But she believed and for you, that has always been enough— believing. Even now, that's all you really ask for us, to believe.

I think about your father, Joseph, he too must have been embarrassed that the woman he was to marry was pregnant with a said king. He couldn't run or refuse but he turned out to be a good father, and I find it amazing that your plans are always perfect.

For you are God and you cannot be stopped. If you say it will happen, surely it will. It doesn't matter if it's the sea keeping the Israelites in bondage, you will split it and make a way.

What you want will happen, when you want it and how you want it and I think that's my favourite thing about you, you have everything figured out, so there's no surprise, no discrepancies. Just a good shepherd leaving the 99 sheep to look for the 1 missing.

It's incredible how selfless and intentional you are, always thinking about us. It's evident in how you created the world and we see it more in the lengths you go to preserve us. You do things for the good of your people. In all your plans, we are at the heart of it... you seek us out, you love us, you deliver us, and you save us.

When I think about your love, I'm instantly overwhelmed and I ask why?

Why is it that we run and you chase us?

Why do we go against you and you still love us, you still show us mercy and give us grace?

And you do all of this continuously till the point where you pay for all our sins, once and for all. That, not just some people, but everyone can be saved and share in your heritage and can have abundant life too.

I say you are selfless, it's your birthday today but it's me dressing up and showing off your gloww because why not?

By coming, by dying and by resurrecting, you have given me hope, inexhaustible hope because I will remain what my greatest abilities couldn't attain; a child of God. And by this, I can do all things, I can keep trying when I fail.

Because you came, I have a father and a friend in you, it may be the worst day or the best day, you are there to listen, to counsel, to guide, to comfort. We now have access.

You are King, you are sovereign and you reign over everything. You are all-knowing, all-powerful, you are gloriously beautiful, only you are.

You have saved the world and you have saved me, by coming. You brought light and by believing in you we receive that light, and as we see it, it transforms us and we reflect it. You have brought us out of darkness into your glorious light, forever.

You are my Redeemer,

debts we owed you paid,

we couldn't save ourselves but you saved us.

No sacrifice was enough to cleanse us, so you gave your life and not just that, you resurrected, thereby, bringing us into that newness too. So that we can be just like you and share everything you have.

Such love, such kindness, such selflessness. Thank you.

You are my Helper. Because you came, whenever I pray, I'm assured and reassured that I have your help. That I am not alone, that I'm heard and you are with me. Your presence has been everything because since you've come into my life, I have truly been helped, divinely and promptly.

I love how you love me. You see me, you know me, you pamper me, you are there for me and I want to be able to reciprocate, it's your birthday and I'm the one making wishes... Haha.

All I want for Christmas is to be able to love you, as you do me.

You have given me everything I couldn't have given myself. You have loved me recklessly, intentionally and you have enabled me to reciprocate to you and to others. It is because of you I know love and can give love.

You make me truly happy, you give me so much joy, so much peace, so much life. And I don't know how to explain that every time I come to you and I feel like a victor, like I'm winning at everything.

You make life make sense, there's so many things I don't understand and I'm curious about it and then I tell my friends and they can't answer and I'm confused but you just nudge me to read the bible and I do and I understand it then.

You are truly everything. My friend, Iseoluwa had once told me about all that you prayed coming to pass except for the one at the garden of Gethsemane. The one where you cried to not have to die, the one where you begged for another way but there was no other way because you are the way, the only way.

And eventually it happened. As we celebrate today, your birth, I want everyone, everywhere to be more aware of the implication of it, the change you have brought to this world and to our lives and be grateful.

We did not deserve it, we couldn't earn it but still you came, out of love, out of the goodness of your heart, you came.

On days like this, I hope to always remember that you are the reason for the season and not just remember but truly draw near to you. Because If you have gone through all this, surely you desire me than I desire you. So what I want is to desire you more.

"Come close to God, and God will come close to you." —James 4:8 NLT

"The Lord is close to all who call on him, yes, to all who call on him in truth." —Psalms 145:18 NLT

My favourite thing about scriptures is how everything relates, you get the revelation of one scripture and you understand another scripture better.

In all of my felicitation and jubilation, I'm reminded that you are the greatest gift of all times and you will always be.

What I want again, is to share this gift of you with someone else.

Thank you so much for everything… today, for the miracle of your birth.

Love,

Victoria. 🤍

I am thinking about you, you who read and prayed and still failed.

You did everything, I know, I was there. I saw you study, join brainstorming sessions, even tutor others and somehow you still have to carryover a course or two or more.

I'm thinking about you who tried to seek redress but the case ended before it even began, you were told to back off “for your own good.”

I am thinking about you who is heavily burdened by this event, afraid of its reoccurrence and what it may cost you, if it does.

I understand you can't figure out what went wrong, and what you will now do differently for a better outcome.

I'm thinking about you, who's on the verge of giving it all up, steadily succumbing to the negative thoughts, wondering if there's still light at the end of the tunnel.

I know how failing can feel like the worst thing, it's an event with painful outcomes. Consequences that can be too much for anyone to handle by themselves.

I am thinking about you, who is afraid of disappointing, this degree isn't just yours, it's a testament of your parents love, prayers and money.

I am thinking about you, how are you fairing? I hope you are not blaming yourself, because I know how hard you worked.

I hope you are not questioning your worth, because you are valuable, regardless of the grade on your score sheet.

I hope you are still swimming, still fighting, still willing, still hopeful.

“The greatest strength is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

I know you don't believe it right now, but everything will be alright.

This moment of your life that feels like a horrible nightmare, as with most nightmares, will pass. It will surely pass.

Take it one day at a time, plan to conquer, do what is required, commit everything to God and you will be pleasantly surprised.

I'm rooting for you. Always.

Victoria. 🤍

I probably needed a hug, but I slipped away, stood in the dark and cried my heart out to God. And somehow, it didn't feel so impossible anymore.

I probably needed a hug, I brought out my journal and my pen, and wrote everything I couldn't say out loud. Because everyone needs an outlet.

So, what if I can't say it? I can write it.

I probably needed a hug but I called my mum, ranted for 2 hours straight. Because even when mummy can't fix it, she makes everything better, every issue less weighty.

I probably needed a hug, but I showed up with a big smile plastered on my face. Maybe happiness can become familiar too.

I probably needed a hug, I packed up my bags and travelled home. Because there's always love at home.

I probably needed a hug, but I stayed up all night to binge watch my favourite TV shows. Old scenes, Old lines, Old songs — they felt like old friends. A reminder of who I was and who I have become, something about that was liberating

I probably needed a hug, but when someone asked 'how I was', I recorded a 22 mins VN that I deleted immediately. No one else heard it but I got to say it out loud.

I probably needed a hug, I re-read all my favourite books. Because even when I'm just in my room, I can experience a new world by reading a book. In this moment, that is adventure enough.

I probably needed a hug, but I bought food. Because comfort eating is a thing and something I'll always enjoy is good food.

I probably needed a hug but I cleared my cart, because sometimes, all you need is retail therapy. I see it, I like it , I want it, I get it... until your account officer starts ringing you.

I probably needed a hug, but I shut down everything. Tabs. Notifications. And I slept. It appears that everyone uses reset after rest, so why not me?

I probably needed a hug, but I got busy. So what if I can't figure it all out? I can just do everything, right?. A win is a win!

I probably needed a hug but I ran out under the rain, to soak and cry, because no one asks about your tears when you are already soaked.

I probably needed a hug, but I danced in my room, sang offkey chorus in the bathroom, wore a cute dress, made videos vibing to my favourite songs because watching myself glow is not exhausting at all.

I probably needed a hug but I ghosted everyone, took a break for social media. Maybe quiet is its own kind of healing.

I probably needed a hug but I cleared my clutter and cleaned my room, top to bottom. Maybe everything can be fixed, starting from the room.

I probably needed a hug. But I stayed online all night, scrolling through strangers’ lives.

Looking for something that felt like comfort.

I probably needed a hug. But I texted “I’m fine” because explaining felt exhausting.

And I wasn’t sure anyone would understand.

This is the story of the many things I did on the days I probably just needed a hug. Tell me all the ways you have held yourself together.

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Dear Diary,

It’s a Thursday night in November and I’m lying in bed thinking, weak and tired... the rain has just stopped.

Everywhere is drearily dark as I reach for my phone to check the time, it’s 11:35 pm. I sigh, the same tired sigh I’ve let out all day, soft, like a breeze whispering through trees. I did not even realise my roommate was still awake. She must have noticed my sour mood, because the next minute she asks, if I’m okay.

For a minuscule moment there, I consider confessing everything. I mean she’s there, and it’s a dark room, so she probably won’t see my face. And I can even change my mind as I share and say that it’s all a joke but, no, not today

So I choose the easy way out. I tell her, ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ hoping it sounds convincing enough to stop her from prodding any further.
I think I did well, she accepts it. Maybe, like me, she chose the easy way out too. I mean, let’s face it, nobody really wants to stay up all night listening to the sad tales of a broken friend, at least not when they have an 8am class the next day. I wonder if I would say more, maybe open up, if she pressed a little more.

Sometimes I think I want to matter, to be regarded, to be seen without asking for it. It genuinely feels good when people check in on their own volition. I know this probably sounds dramatic, but this is how you feel when you are the middle child, you grow up feeling invisible and attention starved. So when someone makes an extra effort, it hits different. It actually means something.

This year, I have been so sad, chronically disinterested but I have also masked it well. With perfectly rehearsed smiles and perfunctory replies to simple, easily questions like “How are you?”.

It’s dangerous for you to be the only one aware that you are breaking, but if we are honest, it’s also the easier way, because how do you even begin to explain the sadness that wraps itself around you the moment your head touches the pillow?

I say “easier” because I never meant to pretend, but overtime, I slipped into a certain public persona, like I’m performing a show. And I only win when I have successfully convinced everyone that I am fine and very happy.

So yes, you are right, there were no pointers. I know because I’m the protagonist and a very convincing actor, if I say so myself. But when I finally get home and sink to my bed, I know I’m finally at the place where I can be real and exist as I feel.

And yes, I said pretending is easier. Before you judge me, look around, no before that, think about it: would you willingly stay around someone who’s always sad or gloomy, for reasons you may never fully understand?

Now look around, everyone is smiling. Would you honestly approach the one person who isn’t and ask what’s wrong?

Truth is, I have also been fighting it. So, I promise you, it’s not all pretense but I’m sad, I don’t like my life, and I don’t know why because practically, I have a good life.

The events of the past couple months have been troubling for me. I have been shamed, disregarded, abused, misunderstood and directly disrespected and alone... It doesn’t help that I have not had the time to process. No one has allowed me to vent, I have not been able to write about how the experience truly felt. Also, everyone appears to have moved on and I just can’t be the one that’s still hung up on it.

What would I say... that it really cut deep? Would they even understand it? Would they try? Would they even listen?

What I’ve learned, though, is the power of context. Context exists because life is never black and white, because life has many colours. There’s the truth, there’s your side, and there’s my side. More often than not, what everybody cares to know, is the truth.
But there’s always a context to a situation, an understanding of the whole picture, the background story, the preceding chapters. Context isn’t just a subtitle, but in the foreword, and in the aftermath, the parts nobody really wants to hear.

It’s a busy world. People hardly have time to check in on themselves, talk more of checking in on someone else.
Lately I have been accepting so much. So much that now the word acceptance makes me cringe.
Someone said, “It may seem to you that people hold themselves back because they’re stupid. But there’s people who really try not to say everything that’s on their minds because if they do, they have to watch the other person get hurt, which is far worse than them holding it in.”
I understood it deeply.

I’m losing my mind. I may be depressed, this sadness is just really present, I am breaking every other night.

But somehow, I’m still responsible, to love, to give, to sacrifice, to serve.
And when you seem happy, no one really checks in, it is why this year I have been immensely grateful for the people who ask how I’m doing without any reason. Their small kindness made the dark nights more bearable.

Perpetual sadness breeds anger and hate. Sometimes, I wondered how everyone walked forward when I always felt like I was walking backward.

I sigh. Again.

I look around. My roommate is asleep now.
I pick up my phone for the second time tonight and I decide to listen to music. Reckless love by Cory Asbury is my song choice tonight and it does something.

It reminds me that I’m loved, seen and cherished. And even though I feel alone and deserted, I remember God and it feels so good to know that he is on my side. That I’m never alone.

For once tonight, I allow myself to crack.
I cry.

Love,
Victoria.

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